Page 78 of Pick-Up
“Sorry,” he says.
“It’s fine,” I squeak, the words catching in my throat, then tripping out.
“Okay. On the count of three. Look up. One, two—”
I am tempted to make a joke, but when I look up on three, I am rendered speechless. I hear a sigh escape his lips.
I like the sound of it.
But I can’t dwell because I have never seen so many stars. Clusters of them and lone wolves. Planets like freckles on the face of the galaxy.
The sound of the ocean feels magnified. The smell of the sea. Or is it the sky?
“This is even better than I expected,” Ethan says finally.
I have no words.
“Are you still with us?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I am definitely with you.”
I can’t even be self-conscious about how that sounds.
I expect him to tell me about the various constellations, and I am all ready to share my theory about how their names could double for sexual positions—the Big Dipper, Ursa Major, the Plow—but he stays silent, just taking it in. So, I do too.
Settling in, I rest my palm down in the soft sand between us, accidentally overlapping Ethan’s hand. A shot of electricity courses through me. “Sorry,” I say, moving an inch away.
“I don’t mind,” he says, his voice lower by an octave. “Now I know where you are.” He shifts his hand, so it is pressing up against mine.
I hold my breath.
For a full moment, I am in bliss. I shine as bright as the stars. Joy rises in me like its own high tide. This place, with its strange beasts and empty spaces, has uncorked something inside of me. Away from the chaos of home, I am becoming someone new. Someone I might actually like… sitting beside someone I might like too. Not that I want to admit it. That I haven’t liked someone like this in eons. And with that recognition, slowly, surely, the worries creep into the quiet as litter. First one, then two, then a garbage truck’s worth of anxieties. All dumped on my shore.
I’m drunk. He’s drunk. We work together. We have an early morning. Someone might see us. Someone might think things. There’s a job at stake. A job I need. A job he needs well done. A job my kids need. What am I doing?
Who is this guy anyway? How do I know he’s not just another Cliff, putting his best foot forward before revealing his true nature?
Anyway, I’m an old lady! Not some sexy young thing. This part of me has long been on layaway, payments delinquent and gone to collections.
And yet things are changing. I’m changing. I can feel it. And I am powerless to stop it.Where are the brakes on this thing?
“What time is it?” I say finally. My heart is racing.
We have left our cell phones face down on the table, forgotten. The last time I did that was likely a different decade. I have no clue how much time has passed.
Ethan groans. “Probably time to pack it in, sadly.” He moves his hand away.
“Totally,” I say, all casual, as if I’m not freaking the fuck out. As if I don’t miss the pressure of his hand. “Morning waits for no man. Woman. Person. Whatever.”
“You are truly so weird.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“So, are we going?” he says.
I hear him rustle to standing, brushing sand from the back of his shorts.
If I search my soul, I’m sad. Though I have instigated it, I don’t want to leave. Worries aside, I’m having fun.
